Art, un!
by missCeilidh
Summary: Max and Iggy have a rather intresting discussions about art. This is based loosly on Deidara and Sasori from Naruto. Don't kill me. p.s. this is a bit AU and OOC. Oh, and one more thing, Fang doesn't exsist here unless I say he does
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.**

**Ok, this is a bit of a stretch for me, it's my first try writing a "Miggy" fic, so tell me what you think. This is AU, so don't kill me. **

**Thanks,**

**Miss C.**

Iggy and I always had this little joke. Not the ha ha funny kind, just an argument that we often referred to during normal conversation. One that never failed to bring a smirk to my lips. It was the one he could never win.

"For the last time Max, Art is _not _eternal. Art is split second. A masterpiece that blooms suddenly and violently, before fading, falling, and leaving only a trace. The light on your face, the heat of chemical reactions on your skin, and that bone rattling, earth shaking boom that follows. That, my dear Max, is true art."

"You are mistaking, I fear. True art is eternal. It never fades. That "art" you speak of is nothing more than a fleeting beauty, not something that passes down through the ages. True art is everlasting. It never fades nor dulls, and can be perfected. True art can not be made with a chemistry set and a few matches, it requires talent, poise, and patience. None of which you seem to possess, Pyro."

"Are you saying I don't have talent?"

"Possibly."

"Fine, just don't be surprised when you find a little 'gift' outside your window on Christmas morning."

"You wouldn't." I say, narrowing my eyes.

"I would. Just admit it, you would be lost without me and my art." This time, _he_ smirked, before turning and walking towards the door.

"Wait- I didn't say…" I went after him, putting a hand on his shoulder. The next thing I knew, My back was pinned against the door frame, my hand still on his shoulder, his lips on mine. My eyes fluttered shut and I kissed back as best as I could, considering this awkward position. When we broke apart, breathing heavily, he looked up sheepishly, indicating the mistletoe hanging above us.

I blushed a little, but didn't break away. I noticed his hand was still on my waist. _Funny, I thought he… does this mean he meant that… or didn't he? _I put a hand up to my face, feeling like I had just been subjected to a roundhouse kick. Oddly, it actually felt kind of nice. Very strange. _Wait, I couldn't…like him…could I?_

Before I had time to figure any of this out, he turned "See you around." He said jauntily waving. "Works every time." He muttered under his breath, smirking to himself. "I heard that!" I yelled, whacking him upside the head with a magazine.

"Fine you win! I surrender!!!!!"

"You admit my art is better?"

"Don't get carried away."

(The magazine was badly abused that day.)


	2. Storm

**Disclaimer:**** Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.**

**Ok, let me explain something here, I've changed my mind a bit, since starting this. I think this is going to turn out as a series of oneshots. Most if not all of them will be a bit AU. There may also be a fair bit of OOC-ness. Each of these oneshots will be completely unconnected to any of the other ones. So some will be happy, some angry, some sad, others hopeful. Iggy's "Art" will be mentioned or at least referred to in all of them. In some of these, Max will be strong, in others she will not. Fang will have no part in any of these (unless specified). I've also decided to add warnings, just in case.**

**(p.s. in some of these Iggy is blind, in others he's not and in some, I guess it's just going to be hard to tell. Sorry about this!!!)**

**Warnings:**** Character death, a weak Max, angst, sadness, and tears. The perfect emo little oneshot. (note: this **_**does**_** take place in a graveyard) **

The rain pours down , running in small streams off the branches and leaves, making it's way quickly from the sky onto the waiting ground below.

The rain ran down their frames, off of slick black of umbrellas crowding around the muddy slip of ground that would forever encase what was left of his family. The ground was cold. An umbrella lay abandoned by the grave side as the lanky youthwho had once held it walked off. He didn't seem to mind the rain dripping from his nose as he looked upwards, his palms are spread skyward, his head back letting the rain wash down his face.

Transience, the way the storm is here and gone in a flash, was true art to Iggy. Even more so than his bombs. This is what he normally lived for, nature's orchestra without a conductor. Or was. Now that they were gone, life had held little interest for him.

In fact, the only reason he had continued to live, the only one who could possibly understand the anguish he was going through, was standing next to him, her small black-gloved hand on his shoulder as he stood there.

A particularly loud crack of the thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning shooting across the sky drew a quiet whimper from beside him.

He looked down at Max, whose teeth were chattering together though from cold or fright, he couldn't be sure. He sighed. Over the two weeks since they (he refused to think of their names any more) had died, his formerly tough-as-nails partner had cracked. Somewhere in the back of his head, the artist felt the need to take care of her, to shelter her and make sure she wasn't going to get hurt. He looked over at her and asked "What's wrong with you?"

She looked up at him. In his mind's eye, he saw her once perfect face, straight nose, creamy skin, and those sparkling eyes, which had once held him captivated were now often dull and lifeless. Although he knew that now it was scarred and covered with stitches, he could not get that image out of his head. It contrasted so greatly with the stark reality before him. Still, she is beautiful, even in the dark, with the occasional flash of lightning lighting up one side of her scarred face, and unshead tears pooling in her eyes, causing them to sparkle once more, if just for a moment. She is beautiful. "T- the thunder, Ig. It's the thunder."

"The thunder?" the artist looked at Max in shock. "What's wrong with the thunder?"

"I-It's just… well, I'm really scared." She replied in a small voice, burying her head in the shoulder of his mud stained suit.

Shaking his head, He leaned over her and wrapped the arm she was clinging to around her shoulders and he held her. "The thunder can't hurt you, silly."

"I-it can't…?"

"No. It's just sound. How is it that that scares you, but my art doesn't?"

Max looked up at him, before burrowing further into the warmth of his shoulder "B-because…you're art is beautiful…this isn't…"

"Sure it is." He looked back up at the sky and let the rain pour down his face and neck. Emotion coursing through his blue-grey eyes, "It's art. Nature's art. More than anything, it's a release. It washes away everything, all regrets, all sorrows."

"A…a release?"

He nods, not seeing the need to explain any further.

He doesn't need to, though. She smiles for the first time in weeks, a small, hopeful smile as she watches him standing there, his head upraised and watches the small eddies of water flowing down his face. She wasn't sure, but for some reason, she didn't think that all of it was rain.

**Thanks for reading! Review please!!!**

**Miss C.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.**

**Warnings: Slight sexual tention/humor. Iggy is alone in his hospitle room with Max after getting his eyesight restored. Songfic to "I'll be" by Edwin McCain. Quite sappy. Maybe some Niggy (If you squint _really _hard).**

**Iggy's POV**

When the bandages came off, I saw nothing. Heard nothing, felt nothing, save the captivating presence of her eyes. Her light brown eyes fascinated me, With gold around her iris, and almost a green tinge near their edge. "Max, you're beautiful." I whispered.

_  
The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful  
Stop me and steal my breath.  
And emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky  
Never revealing their depth.  
Tell me that we belong together,  
Dress it up with the trappings of love.  
I'll be captivated,  
I'll hang from your lips,  
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.  
_

The next morning, I woke up, and opened my eyes thinking it had all been a dream. Seeing was too good to be true. _What_ I was seeing was almost beyond imagining. Max was there, sitting on the edge of my hospital bed, smoothing the covers absentmindedly, one hand resting on my knee.

_  
__[Chorus:__  
I'll be your crying shoulder,  
I'll be love's suicide  
I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your life.  
_

She smiled, crawling over to sit behind me, and I leaned against her, as she rested her chin on my shoulder. The gesture was so trusting and open, she was acting like she knew the world was watching, and not caring. Well, this was different. Normally I was the forward one. "Do Angel, Nudge, and Gazzy know?" I asked. "Of coarse not," she said. I tried not to look disappointed. The sooner they knew, the sooner we could get this out of the dark, and start acting like a real couple. "But, you know…" she began, smirking, "they're not here now." Her kiss arrived just as the first boom of thunder made the windows shudder.

_  
And rain falls angry on the tin roof  
As we lie awake in my bed.  
You're my survival, you're my living proof.  
My love is alive -- not dead.  
Tell me that we belong together.  
Dress it up with the trappings of love.  
I'll be captivated,  
I'll hang from your lips,  
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above  
_

The next morning I woke to find her curled up on her side, her gold hair spread around her head like a halo. My angel Max… no, that didn't fit. Max is no angel, no matter how much she may look like one, No, maybe my gorgous, tough, smart, hard working Leader who I just so happen to be in love with. That title is much more befitting.

I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She probubally never would be mine, no matter how hard I tried to convince her. This is what we both wanted, what was wrong with making it official, at least to the flock? Why didn't she want every one to know? I know her reasons, and they make sense, but still.

_  
__[Chorus:__  
I'll be your crying shoulder,  
I'll be love's suicide  
I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your...  
I'll be your crying shoulder,  
I'll be love's suicide  
I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your life.  
_

I lay back, and put my arm around her shoulders. She mumbled a little, and turned to snuggle into my chest. I smiled, moving my hand down to lightly rest on her waist. She smiled, and we lay there for a while. "Max?" "hmm?" "Would you teach me to draw?" "uh… sure, why?" she asked. I grinned, maybe a little bit wickedly. "I've got this picture of you in my head. It won't go away. Besides now that I can see to draw it, I'm going to need a model…" "Wha- Iggy you little pervert!" She half yelled, finally catching on. "No! there's no way I'm going to be _that_ kind of a model, not even for you! You can draw yourself naked, for all I care!" "I bet you'd like that, huh?" I asked in mock seriousness. She blushed and looked at the wall, muttering something about taking the higher moral standing. Whatever. The thought of me naked still made her blush. Ha! I'm never going to let her forget this one!

"You're right. Nudge would be a better model anyways..."

"YOU SICKO!!!!"

I raised my hands in surrender

"Kidding! Kidding! I'd rather draw you anyway."

"Thanks."

_[Chorus:__  
I'll be your crying shoulder,  
I'll be love's suicide  
I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your...  
I'll be your crying shoulder,  
I'll be love's suicide  
I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your life.  
_

_The greatest fan of your life.  
...greatest fan of your life._


	4. After the bash

**Disclaimer:**** Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.**

**Warnings: **** None, other than alcohol reference. (Max and Iggy are 21. and Live in a house with Angel, Gazzy and Nudge. It is New Years Day, and Max got drunk at a party they held the night before)**

**Max's POV**

"Hey Iggy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you come here for a sec?"

"Uh sure."

He came into my room, a slight look of puzzlement on his face. "You remember last night, right?" I asked "Uh… Sure. There were fireworks…and… and…"

"And what?" I asked "Well? Do you remember THIS?" I asked angrily, thrusting the pictures in his face.

"Unfortunately, Max, waving something in front of my face isn't really going to tell me anything. You're going to have to describe whatever the hell it is." I said calmly.

"I… I can't."

**Iggy's POV**

"I… I can't."

Ok, people, let's set one thing straight. You never, and I mean _never_ ask Max why she can't do something. If you do, prepare to have your head ripped off, and then drown in her tears.

"Ok…are you going to tell me why you're PMS-ing all of a sudden?"

"I'm not, it's called a _hangover_, dipstick."

… (shocked silence)

"You have a hangover? You mean last night… you were _drunk_?"

"Yeah, and I wake up this morning with a bloody hangover, and Angel comes in and gives me these (she waved something)… bloody pictures…" she was almost crying now. Not good. Not good.

"What are the pictures of?" I asked her lightly, knowing very well what they probably were.

"You and me…on the couch…making out." The last part came as a mortified whisper. "Do you even …?" she asked, still whispering. "I remember…" I said, also whispering. She was crying now, I sat down against the closet, and pulled her into my arms, letting her sob into my shirt.

"You stole my first kiss while I was drunk. I was drunk, and I don't even remember." She said, her crying almost done.

"Do you regret it?" she asked suddenly.

"Of coarse not, why?"

"Then you won't mind if I do … this."

Her lips were soft on mine, I blinked in surprise, almost breaking the kiss, before returning and kissing her back, also softly.

"Wha….?" I asked when we finally came up for air.

"I wanted to do it properly."

"Oh, well in that case…"

I pulled he closer, and this time, it was not such a light kiss.


End file.
